


if you only knew (my heart is breaking)

by murphysarc



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Supernatural Elements, basically murphy is immortal, the major character death is only for him so dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 09:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murphysarc/pseuds/murphysarc
Summary: he’s spoken to death a few times. she’s nice, in the way that her message is distinct and her point is never convoluted. not much of a conversationalist, though.or, john murphy is immortal. references canon events, but isn’t compliant. title from “just like you” by louis tomlinson.





	if you only knew (my heart is breaking)

**Author's Note:**

> ha ha ha ha  
> it's almost as if i don't know what fluff is

**i.**

They found him buried under the remnants of the room he once called home, enough smoke in his lungs to kill an army.

Dr. Griffin called it a miracle that he was still alive. Murphy didn’t catch most of the medical jargon thrown over his head, but he kept hearing things like “countless broken bones”, “third degree burns” and “should have asphyxiated.” It’s not as if he could explain to them what had happened. It’s not as if –

Three days later, the police arrested him on arson charges and locked him in a cell. “Can’t believe he’d do that,” one of them muttered under their breath as they pushed him into solitary. “Could’ve killed us all.”

 _Could’ve killed us all,_ they all said. _Should’ve died. Remarkable._

The irony is so strong that for the four days he’s trapped in solitary, John Murphy laughs.

 

**ii.**

_Alex Murphy knew his day was coming._

_“People ask questions up here, John,” he’d said. “I hope that you make it back to Earth, but I’m…I’m sorry I brought this on you.”_

_He’d said that before running off to steal medicine and get himself caught, because people ask questions somewhere like the Ark. They’d ask why he didn’t age, why his health was always perfect, why he’s close to five hundred years old._

_They’d ask what would happen to John, the only son he’s ever had._

_Because Alex Murphy is immortal, and so is his son._

_Because Alex Murphy doomed himself to a never-ending cycle of death, floating endlessly through space, never to find himself back home._

_Because John Murphy lit a fire just to see if he’d really die, just to see if his father was lying or not._

**iii.**

He’s spoken to death a few times. She’s nice, in the way that her message is distinct and her point is never convoluted. Not much of a conversationalist, though.

“John Murphy,” she’ll say, “we meet again.”

“That we do,” he’ll reply, for the first few times, before he doesn’t dignify her with a response.

“You’re so tired,” are her next words. “I would be, too.”

“Maybe I am,” he’ll say. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Even so, death will offer her hand, but he will not take it.

 

**iv.**

“Bellamy Blake,” he says, with an upturned smirk. “You really know how–”

“For once in your life, Murphy, shut up,” Bellamy replies, but Murphy’s hands are already in his hair and for a moment, he’s already forgotten.

 

**v.**

Monroe stops him outside of his tent. “Murphy, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” they say.

He nods, surprised, but not against it. Monroe is one of the few people that he respects; that he’d go so far as to call a friend. “You’re different,” they say. “You just…you act so different from the rest of us. Like you _know_ something.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He says this because he doesn’t know how to talk to friends.

They’re unfazed. “Everyone else is scared out of their minds, but you’re so calm.”

 _Who says I’m not scared out of my mind,_ he almost says, but that’s not the kind of person he’s got to be. “Whatever, Monroe,” he says, shoving past them.

He’s scared out of his mind.

 

**vi.**

They hang him. It’s fine, really, but his neck snaps on the descent and death greets him once more.

“You’ve lost your edge,” she says. “Not being too careful, are we?”

“Fuck off,” he replies, coming back to reality with a loud gasp, grateful to see he’s already been cut down.

He glances up, once, only to meet Bellamy’s cold, dead eyes. Well, it isn’t often a murderer gets to see his victim again.

 

**vii.**

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t. He’s not attached, not to anyone, not to anyplace, to nothing, because eventually he’ll either have to reveal his secret or run away, and both of those options didn’t work out well for his father.

 

**viii.**

It’s pitiful how much he cares.

 

**ix.**

When he meets a crowd of Grounders in the woods, they spare him only a fleeting glance. “He is alone,” one of them says. “No one will know.”

The spear that enters his abdomen is fairly dull, making this his least favourite death so far. At least the neck-snapping was quick.

_“John, John, John,” death tuts, shaking her shadowy head. “Not again!”_

_“Don’t talk to me.”_

_“Your father was_ never _this careless.”_

_“My father might as well be dead.”_

He gasps, shooting upwards, vision clearing. Lucky for him, the Grounders are still there, and turn towards him upon hearing the sound. “He was dead,” one of them says, rather quietly.

Murphy sighs. They’ve seen it – there’s no point pretending. His fingers wrap around the spear still stuck in his abdomen and he pulls it out, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling. The wound closes quickly, but the fresh blood all around him remind him of the pain.

“He was dead,” another one of them confirm, before the third Grounder walks over to him and kicks him in the head.

 

**x.**

He wakes in a cage.

“Is this something that all Sky People can do?” says a Grounder, taller than the rest, her hands posed deftly on her hips.

His questioning look isn’t good enough for her. “Are all Sky People unable to die?” she asks again.

Their eyes meet, but there’s no malice in them. “I don’t know,” he answers, truthfully, because there may be others that haven’t revealed themselves. Even if there were, he wouldn’t be the first choice to divulge a secret to.

There was a time, maybe, if he had worked harder, that he could have called Bellamy more than a friend. There was a time that Monroe reached out, but he’d pushed them away. There was a time where they would come for him, rescue him from this cage.

But the Grounder grows angry and knocks life away from him for just a few moments, and all Murphy can hear is death laughing.

 

**xi.**

The Grounders keep him, for a time, until they discover he’s an anomaly and can’t tell them anything useful. Eventually, he finds his way away from them, but there’s nowhere else for him to turn.

“I hate you so much,” Bellamy whispers, pulling on the restraints Kane placed on both their wrists.

“Yeah,” Murphy replies. “I would, too.”

 

**xii.**

It changes for him, then.

Finn’s got his gun pointed at a ring full of Grounders – except, Murphy knows they’re all innocent. They’re scavengers. Maybe they bought the items from the real culprits, the real group that took their people.

Either way, Finn’s got a murderous look in his eye, and Murphy knows all too well how this ends.

“Finn,” he says, trying to keep his voice level but he’s scared out of his mind. “These people do _not_ have what we’re looking for.”

“You saw the jackets,” Finn says. The gun stays level, pointed straight at a Grounder that can’t be more than a teenager. “They’ve got them.”

“Finn,” he tries again, stepping closer, until he’s right next to him. “Don’t.”

“Finn!” someone else yells, this time, and Murphy’s gaze rises until he sees Clarke, less than 100 yards away, standing at the edge of the woods. Bellamy’s there, because of course he is, as well as his sister. Murphy’s pretty sure her name’s Octavia, but really, he doesn’t care.

A brief moment passes where Finn’s features relax, and the gun lowers ever so slightly. Clarke comes forwards. She’s clearly in shock, wondering what was about to happen, possibly wondering what Murphy and Finn could possibly be doing together.

“Clarke,” Finn whispers. “I found you!”

The Grounder teenager rises, then, and chooses that moment to make a break for it. The murderous look reappears on Finn’s face, the gun rises, the safety long since removed –

Murphy jumps in front of the gun. The shot rips through his heart. The Grounders are unharmed.

He knows, as his body falls and someone screams, that it will be a while before he wakes.

 

**xiii.**

“Oh, John,” death sighs, so much gentler this time. “It’s about to get very, very difficult for you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he asks. “Don’t you think I’ve _always_ known that?”

“You’re a good soul, John,” she says. “Much like your father. I’m genuinely sorry this is going to happen to you.”

“No, you aren’t,” he says, to which death simply shrugs.

 

**xiv.**

Since this death was a painful one, he comes back to life with a strangled gasp as his body jerks, rolling him onto his side. Slowly, his eyes open, vision returning too quickly. The pain in his heart remains, but the wound closes, the bullet falling to the ground.

It’s night. He’s not in the same place that he died – Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia and Finn sit in a circle around a small fire, grim expressions on each face. He doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Frankly, he doesn’t care.

He’s surprised that they bothered to take the time to move his body. It’s nice, in a way.

Bellamy’s eyes are fixed on the ground until the sound of Murphy’s breath alters him. They narrow, instantly, as they make eye contact. “Murphy?” he whispers, quickly standing. “What…?”

The other three turn to stare, but none of them move. “Clarke,” Octavia says, slowly. “You said he was dead.”

Clarke swallows, nodding. “He was dead. I – Murphy, you’re – you’re dead.”

Murphy gives them a half smile, forcing himself upright. “Yeah,” he says. “So, about that…”

 

**xv.**

For once in his life, Murphy tells the truth. “I can’t die,” he says. “I’m never, ever going to die.”

Octavia’s impassive. Finn’s relieved. Bellamy’s awestruck. But Clarke –

Clarke is calculating.

 

**xvi.**

It becomes a steady stream of “we’ll get Murphy to help” real, real quickly.

“Murphy, we’re sending a team into Mount Weather –

“Murphy, we need someone as backup –

“Murphy, we would die, but you –

“Murphy, please.”

It’s not as if they have anything to threaten him with. He doesn’t have to stay. He could walk out, leave, never look back.

But Bellamy asks him, so timidly, as if he knows exactly what he’s asking of him. Maybe, in a way, he does.

“Yes,” Murphy replies.

 

**xvii.**

It’s apparent, when for the umpteenth time that he’s sacrificed himself so someone else can live, that Clarke sees him more as a pawn than anything else.

“Oh, John,” death tells him. “One day, it’ll end for you.”

“That’s a lie,” he says. “You should know better than to lie to me.”

Death laughs, as she always does. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should.”

 

**xviii.**

He’s tasked with infiltrating Polis, to find information on Lexa and her ‘court’, so to speak. Clarke wants him to find out if they’re going to be double-crossed yet again.

Slipping into the city is easy enough, but it isn’t long before he’s discovered by an annoying, hooded Grounder. He identifies himself as Titus, before he slips a blade into Murphy’s heart, catching his body with a look of triumph.

 

**xix.**

Murphy wakes with a painful breath, rope tying him to a chair. Titus stands in front of him. His eyes are eager, yet, full of madness. “So the legends were true,” he says. “The _kom wamplei,_ they said, a Sky Person who could never die.”

Murphy just smiles. He doesn’t know what he’s been called, but he has no other option. “That’s me.”

“The old Commander said she saw a Sky Person, before the war, who walked with death as a friend. These fool’s tales were part of the reason she was killed,” Titus goes on. “Yet…you live.”

“That’s sort of the point, isn’t it?”

Titus crouches, inches from Murphy’s face. “Oh, we’re going to have some fun.”

 

**xx.**

Titus kills him twenty-three times before he wakes once more to Clarke’s stony face. “Shh,” she whispers. His hearing returns, Titus’ voice heavy in the background.

There’s a gun, because of course there is.

Clarke stands, distracting Titus, so Murphy begins to work at his own bindings. They come off easily. He makes sure to face away from Titus before working the gag out of his mouth. He’s free – but he knows he can’t leave.

He stands slowly, but Titus pays him no mind. Clarke’s got her hands raised, trying to talk him down, because that’s how she wins all her battles.

It doesn’t matter. The gun fires. Murphy throws himself at Clarke, hitting the ground. A bullet hits his side, but it is not lethal, so it does not heal.

Clarke’s breathing is heavy. She rises, sees a door open, sees a girl exit. It’s Lexa – the commander. To Murphy, this means nothing, but to Clarke it evidently means quite a lot.

“Titus!” he yells, standing despite the pain. It’s at the point of his immortality where pain is the closest thing he has to a friend. “Aim a little better next time, you son of a–”

Lexa pushes Titus to the ground from behind. The gun leaves his hand and spins across the floor, eventually ending up in Clarke’s grip. A single bullet is fired, hitting its mark in Titus’ skull.

“Clarke,” Lexa says, gazing at the two of them. “What is this?”

But Clarke, for some reason, chooses to look at Murphy. “Is this where you’ve been this whole time?”

He laughs, then grimaces. “Yeah, nice to see you too.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “We thought you’d run away. Bellamy wanted to come, but…”

“It’s alright,” he says. “Do me a favour and shoot me? I’ll heal faster.”

He doesn’t know if she does it out of friendship or neutrality, and he doesn’t know which version he’d prefer.

 

**xxi.**

“Will you never learn?” death says.

“Have I ever?”

 

**xxii.**

When he finally makes it back to camp, Bellamy is the first to greet him. “I thought…”

“I know,” Murphy says. It’s surprising that either of them care, but then again, maybe it isn’t.

 

**xxiii.**

Flash forwards, to the radiation, to the most painful deaths he’s ever felt. It kills so slowly that even Murphy fears it.

But here they are, at some lab, with a sample of black blood and the need for a test subject. And here they are, and once again, Murphy feels like no more than a pawn.

“Test it on me,” he says, sighing. “Might as well, right?”

Bellamy places a hand on his shoulder. “Murphy…”

“Oh, stop,” he says, quietly, but he doesn’t move away. “You _know_ I’ll be fine.” Turning to the rest of the group, he says louder, “Besides, I am the only one who will survive Primfaiya. I’d rather have someone survive it with me.”

“Selfish as always,” Raven comments, but she doesn’t quite mean it.

He allows Abby to give him the injection, he waits two hours, and then he lies in the radiation chamber, allowing the cover to seal him inside. “Do your worst,” he says.

At first, there’s nothing. “Will this even work on him because he’s – well – because of what he is?” Raven asks.

“It’s got to,” Clarke says, and oh, it does.

It starts slowly, a slight tingling on his skin, but then his world explodes. The sudden pain all over his body is the worst he’s ever felt. The screams that tear from his throat leave his voice raw.

Vaguely, he hears Bellamy yelling for them to turn it off, before death takes him away for a brief reprieve.

 

**xxiv.**

He gets the sense he’s been gone a while when he wakes.

His skin is still raw. The pain is still great. It’s still hard to breathe, but it’s far easier to cope with then what he felt before.

As he sits up, he sees they’ve moved him to a bed. Bellamy’s in the room, watching him, his expression guarded. “That was horrible,” Bellamy finally says.

“Tell me about it.”

“I never, ever want to see that again.”

“Oh, Bellamy,” he sighs. “You know that you will.”

 

**xxv.**

And that he does.

It takes six more trials before they find a version that works. At this point, Murphy’s ready to cry with relief when the terrible, terrible pain doesn’t take him away.

He exits the chamber to find several others already in tears. “It worked,” Raven says, shocked. “It actually _worked_.”

Except – then –

He’s _out_ of the chamber, the radiation is off, but the pain comes back and his knees buckle, his body crashing to the floor as they scream and he screams and everything ends.

 

**xxvi.**

In the end, it doesn’t work.

“We’re all going to die,” Bellamy says, holding Murphy to his chest when they are finally alone.

“Oh, you don’t know that,” Murphy replies, but he does know that, and he’s terrified.

 

**xxvii.**

Abby leaves with a group to go to the bunker. Raven finds a way to cure her brain. A few of them stay in the lab, repairing the rocket, a last ditch effort to save their lives.

“I think Octavia’s dead already,” Bellamy says. “Don’t take this the wrong way but – I’m happy that I don’t have to worry about you dying.”

Murphy does not smile.

 

**xxviii.**

It’s the last day of life before the world gives up once more. The rocket’s working, but –

“Someone needs to align the tower manually,” Raven says. “I didn’t – I should have noticed this before!”

“I’ll do it,” Murphy says, conditioned to respond that way.

“No,” Bellamy replies instantly. “You might – we might have to leave you behind.”

“I know,” he says. “I’ll survive, though. I always do.”

“You – Murphy, no.”

With a smile, with a kiss, he’s already left.

 

**xxix.**

As he sees the rocket fly into the air, the death wave hits, and Murphy falls off the tower and onto the radiated ground.

This kills him, but then, when he awakens, the radiation is ready for round two, and three, and four, five, six, seven –

“John Murphy,” death says. “Are you finally ready to come stay with me?”

“I always have been, you know that,” he says, reaching for her hand, but she pulls it away at the last second.

“Oh, you’re better than that,” she says. “You always have been.”

 

**xxx.**

Somewhere up there, Alex Murphy is still living and dying as his body floats through space.

Somewhere down there, John Murphy lies on the forest floor, shaking from radiation poison over and over and over.

 

**xxxi.**

Six years later, they will find Murphy near the same spot, still weak, but very much alive.

“You did it,” Bellamy will whisper, holding him close.

“I always do,” he’ll say, and with a final nod death will smile and leave him alone. As Murphy watches her go, as he feels a weight lift, he’ll wonder if his father got the same choice.

**Author's Note:**

> was this???? okay????
> 
> regardless! thanks for all that reading. have a lovely day/night!! all the love <3


End file.
